


Dessert

by fabricdragon



Series: Work Of Art [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Epilogue, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Jim Moriarty, Past Violence, Scars, for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25569910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: the explicit Dessert, following  the conversation in Chapter 6 of "Work Of Art".  This follows directly after the end of the previous story, and can be read as an Epilogue, but also  can stand alone if you don't mind a few dangling plot threads.
Relationships: Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty
Series: Work Of Art [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849801
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Dessert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InnerSpectrum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/gifts), [mickie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickie/gifts), [SpeculativeCorvid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeculativeCorvid/gifts).



Jim found walking into the bedroom after Sebastian a bit disconcerting. He’d said the truth- or part of it anyway- when he told Sebastian that he found most people unutterably boring: it was also a risk to let anyone that close. Even a smaller, physically weaker person could kill you when you were sufficiently ‘distracted’ as he very well knew: he’d done it, after all.

Yet here he was with a man who was demonstrably bigger, stronger and more combat capable, had tried to kill him multiple times, had worked for Mycroft Holmes, had tracked him- despite his convincing death- to New York City, and yet Jim was… _Going to look death in the face and tell it to take its best shot, like always._

“Is that all you got?” Jim laughed softly.

“What?” Sebastian turned around to look at him.

Jim smiled and shook his head, “Me and my general attitude toward… things i shouldn't do.”

Sebastian sat down carefully on the bed- next to the box Jim had brought in from the storage locker- and looked up at him. “Most people tell me i *shouldn't* do something, it's ok; it's when they tell me i CAN'T do something that it gets messy.”

Jim leaned on the wall and smirked at the man- _God he was gorgeous_ \- “Can’t not able to? Or can’t not permitted?”

“Well either to a degree, but ‘unable to’ gets my back up,” Sebastian admitted with a wry smile.

“Another thing in common then,” Jim shrugged, “So... i bought those,” he waved at the box,” in case i managed to capture you alive, because i had a LOT of questions...but looks like we can put them to their actual intended use.”

Sebastian gave him a very perplexed look and at Jim’s nod opened the box. He frowned a bit as he took the cuffs and bars and other odds and ends out. “I… know people use stuff like this for fun…” he trailed off with a clear unspoken, ‘but i don’t get it at all.’

“It can be fun to give up control, I hear- beats me, i never trusted anyone that far; but in this case it's more a matter of making ME feel a bit more secure, since you are demonstrably able to kill me with your bare hands.”

That last made Sebastian look a bit guilty and a bit less eager and he just held up a cuff dubiously, “well...it… looks more comfortable than anything anyone actually used?”

Jim hesitated at that, “I won’t use them if they set you off… i couldn't get your unredacted records in the amount of time i had…”

Sebastian looked thoughtful at the cuff, “I don’t THINK it will?” He put the cuff back in the box. “Our unit got hit by an ambush- it started with a roadside bomb,” he looked off a bit distantly, “I still don’t remember anything from just a loud noise until i woke up later and i was facedown in the dirt with my hands behind my back- I’m told we put up a fight and i shot some of them, but…” he shrugged and looked back at Jim, “it was messy and complicated and too many good people died, but we ended up getting loose and getting medivacked out. It was in hospital after that that my allergy… got bad.”

“And they discharged you on a medical.” Jim nodded, “Latex allergy must be hell with the field equipment.”

“Oh it is- they would have had to discharge me anyway, but they were already looking for an excuse.” He flashed that cocky grin, “Got a lot of scars out of it- including this one,” he drew a finger down the side of his face along that faint scar that ran just through his eyebrow and down to his jaw.

“That just missed your eye- you got lucky.”

“Yeah.” he stood up and started taking off his clothes. “You’ll need to be careful of the stitches, and like i said i think you may have cracked a rib that first night- it hurts, anyway.”

Jim meant to say something but as more and more skin was exposed he found himself without words: Sebastian was a work of art in his own right, with muscles from work and motion- not over sculpting in a gym- but what took his body from ‘attractive’ to ‘fascinating’ was the scars. One side of his body was marked with a few older, lighter scars- including a small caliber gunshot wound- but the other side was like looking at a spray of paint… if the paint had been shrapnel and the canvas was a human body.

Jim found himself pulled forward to touch and run his hand over it… there was one wound that was new, and had stitches- where he’d gotten him with the knife- and Jim could only count his blessings that he’d apparently nearly traced an existing scar.

“Uh… what?” Sebastian sounded confused.

“Turn.” Jim murmured.

“I don’t quite-”

“I said TURN.”

The canvas rotated under his hand and he traced the scars, fewer under the shelter of the arm, and then a slightly different pattern across his back.

“That's beautiful…” Jim breathed.

“...no one ever said that before…”

“Any fool that saw this and didn't admire it has no sense of aesthetics…” Jim started tracing the spray pattern of lines across the man’s back and mentally mapping out the damage, the muscles…

In a rougher voice, Sebastian said, “Well, I… I’m glad you think so. The last woman i was with didn't want to look at them.”

“Can she be ignored as a fool, or does she need to be removed?” Jim asked idly as he traced a spectacular, if fortunately shallow, scar that looked like it must have been molten metal.

Sebastian turned to face him again, “she didn't do anything- she’s irrele-” he cut off as Jim traced a scar line over Sebastian’s hip and onto his thigh.

Jim idly noted that Sebastian was hard: that was fairly aesthetic as well, but mundanely so- it wasn't scarred or marked.

He glanced up to see Sebastian licking his lips repeatedly with his fists clenched slightly. _Heh_.

“Do you… want something?” Jim looked up at him through his eyelashes coquettishly, and then let the mad smile show-the one that let you know he wasn't safe, or entirely sane.

“...yes…” Sebastian’s voice was deeper and rougher and more of a growl than a purr.

Jim glanced at the pretty piece of meat sitting up so proudly against the muscles and scars: it made a nice contrast. He darted his tongue out and then looked back up at Sebastian. “Lets see how well you follow orders, soldier: stand at attention,” he smirked and let his voice drop into a growl, “and stay that way.”

Sebastian moved into a parade stance almost by reflex and then Jim heard a hesitant, “sir?” that was cut off quickly by a moan as Jim lowered his head and started tracing scars with his tongue.

Jim followed the tracks with his tongue and his teeth while he ran a hand softly over the man’s legs and up to where they joined, and the softer skin standing so vulnerably there…

Sebastian was making a moaning growl like the sound of floorboards before they gave under your feet, the sound of a tree before it broke under the wind- it was beautiful enough to set shivers down Jim’s back.

When he tired of that he switched to running his hands over the scars, and traced the veins in the soft, firm flesh with his tongue- the tracery of veins echoing the patterns of the scars in a few places.

Sebastian’s hands were clenched and his muscles bunched and rippled under Jim’s hands as he fought the urge to move… but he apparently could follow orders when the rewards were clear enough.

Jim looked up at the blue eyes looking down, at the tortured ecstatic face and laughed, “Be careful what you wish for,” he said, and then he lowered his head over the man and swallowed him down while his hands dug into the meat and muscle of his haunches.

Sebastian’s moan turned into a scream locked behind his jaw and he came, bucking into Jim’s mouth before his knees gave out, and it was suddenly Jim’s arms around his legs and his hands on his ass keeping him up until he regained his wits...

...Sebastian looked down and said in an awed voice that went RIGHT to Jim’s ego and petted it, “How could anyone ever order you killed?”

“Well i don’t show off those skills to just ANYone, Sebastian,” Jim pushed himself up, sliding up against that body, dragging his clothes across the man’s skin. “most people aren’t worth my time.”

“Can- Can i move yet?” Sebastian sounded so hungry and his expression was something close to worship- obsession reduced to its purest form.

“You can, very gently, help me get the clothes off.” Jim said and he spread his arms.

Sebastian very gently and carefully removed Jim’s clothing, although it didn't take much to see that he WANTED to rip them off. When he saw the bruising, however , he slowed… and eventually he was whispering “I’m sorry” over and over as he pulled off the final pieces of cloth.

Jim walked the balance between building the man back up- with his devotion to JIm reinforced- or risking him running away. “I’m recovering,” he very carefully didn’t say he was alright, “I just need you to be careful, and be careful of my ribs.”

“Do... you need to see a doctor?” he was kneeling in front of Jim and looking unhappy. As much as Jim would have liked to encourage a few things from that position, it was obvious he wasn't in the right mindset.

“No, not for this… but I was injured in interrogation, and then again in prison.” Jim pulled the man up to his feet and moved him back to the bed. “It wouldn’t take much to make my ribs hurt these days.”

He guided Sebastian to lay back on the bed and got out the handcuffs, “Now… I want to cuff your hands to the bed, but i DON’T want it to be painful, or upsetting for you: you need to promise me that if you have any difficulty you will TELL me.”

Sebastian made all the right noises but Jim saw the guilt in his eyes and narrowed his own. “Sebastian… I am ORDERING you to tell me if you are not comfortable, if you feel trapped or panicked, or in any way that there is a problem.”

You could see the conflict between ‘but orders!’ and his guilt as his eyes tracked from Jim’s bruises to the cuffs.

Jim gentled his voice. “I cannot be a good commander- or a good top- if i don't know what’s going on with my man, can i?”

Sebastian lowered his eyes and sighed, “No sir… I’ll… I’ll tell you.”

“Good.” Jim ran a hand through Sebastian’s hair and then impulsively tightened his grip and leaned down and kissed him. Arms that could break Jim’s back came up and wrapped around him, but while they did constrain him, Sebastian wasn’t hurting him. Jim pulled Sebastian’s head back by his hair- in a mirror to their first kiss- and took his time.

By the time he let Sebastian up for air, his nerves seemed to have settled. Jim held up the cuffs and waited: Sebastian locked eyes with him and held out his arm.

Jim might normally have played a bit, teased or taunted or terrorized, but not now: he carefully placed the cuff and closed it gently with both hands around Sebastian’s wrist. He watched Sebastian’s tongue dart out to moisten his lips and Jim encouraged him to tug against a bit of resistance, showed him how it unlatched, pointed out that he wasn’t locking it, “this time.”

_Because there WILL be a next time..._

Sebastian’s breathing was a bit ragged by the time he closed the second cuff, but Jim didn’t think that was from any issues with the CUFFS… just that the man was clearly being utterly tortured by a naked Jim crouching over his naked body.

Once he was secured, Jim lay down against the warm length of muscles and kissed him lazily, shifting his body so they rubbed together and he felt the pattern of the scars against his own skin.

Sebastian didn't so much moan as whine.

“So comfortable,” Jim sighed deeply, “I could just… lay here…” he wriggled slightly.

“You are evil….” Sebastian groaned.

“Neither that, nor ‘you bastard’, are safewords… oh dear me, Sebastian,” Jim grinned evilly down at him, “We didn't agree on safewords- guess you’ll just have to hope i can tell the difference between begging for more, and begging me to stop,” he slid his hand down between them, “What do you think?”

Sebastian thickened in his hand and moaned, “I… I think… I think you could probably do anything you wanted…”

“I usually do,” Jim chuckled and stroked them both together a bit more until his own attention started dissolving at the edges.

He brought his hand back up and folded his arms across Sebastian’s chest, “what have you done with men? You said you were bi…”

“What you were just doing, mostly,” His voice was rough and just this side of broken and _OH_ Jim loved that sound. “And… I fucked a man between his thighs, while I reached around…”

“Never penetration?”

Sebastian shook his head, nervousness showing just a bit as he licked his lips again. Jim watched the shine glisten on those very kissable lips and leaned down and kissed them again.

“Well,” Jim considered, “Be a shame to waste all of this…”

Jim considered riding him, but he really hadn’t prepared himself, and… well his ribs...and Sebastian’s ribs…

He rolled off to one side of him and started teasing and nibbling and stroking him again- this time he knew what Sebastian liked- and by an effort of will kept his hands away from himself because it would barely take a touch…

Especially the way Sebastian was crying his name.

_Give an egotist an orgasm just from hearing you beg- damn!_

And then he pushed himself between Sebastian’s thighs and picked up the pace with his hands, and he found that oh so tasty shoulder and he bit- perhaps a trifle harder than he might have with anyone else, but the man arched into it and roared and begged and cried out “JIM!”

And when Jim could do anything but purr and lick the man’s shoulder where his teeth marks were, he pulled Sebastian over to face him..

“You were so good for me, Sebastian,” Jim licked and kissed each wrist as he freed it from the cuffs.

“Jim…” Sebastian looked as though he was TRYING to say something more, but just moaned and slid his arms around Jim and pulled him in.

 _It’s the oddest thing_ , Jim thought as he was enveloped in muscle and encompassed by someone that could easily kill him, _that this, that HE feels safe._

Jim pulled the man’s arm around him as if he was adjusting a weighted blanket and went to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> a really lovely poem by a friend titled dessert in a double Tanka (Super-Tanka) style:  
> https://raivenne.com/2011/04/03/dessert-for-girlgriot/  
> it seemed appropriate....


End file.
